


And Through the Years, You've...

by angelfish_a_gogo



Category: Jrock, Machine (Japan Band), Penicillin (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, hair color switch-ups, loosely based on real life events, time jumps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 04:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14393904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelfish_a_gogo/pseuds/angelfish_a_gogo
Summary: A series of snippets in Hakuei and Kiyoshi lives that have bound them together from the past until now.





	1. 1994: Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> This was sort of born out of my own frustration at how Hakuei's and Kiyoshi's intertwined history has very rarely ever been written about. I think there's literally one fic out there, and it's in Russian. Hopefully this interests someone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legacy, part one.

“His voice is…terrible.”

“Hush up.”

“It's just…really bad.”

“It’s not the best — he’s been working on it — but there’s something about him. I can see it.”

“I mean,” a click of a lighter triggered a quick toss of waist-length pink & red hair and a small wiggle of the nose as a cigarette was lit. Honey-brown eyes were thrown to the side to regard his blond companion, “He’s clearly handsome, if that’s what you’re getting at, but he sounds like a dying cat.” 

Jet black eyebrows shot up and matching colored eyes shot opened as turned to his friend, “Dying cat? Didn’t you say the same about Kiyoharu when you first met him?"

The longer-haired man softly exhaled smoke through upturned lips. “Saa… don’t even act like this kid and Kiyoharu are in the same league.” His lips quickly turned from a frown into a cheeky grin, “Besides, I said he sounded like a goat.”

The blond shook his head furiously before he turned back to watch the band on stage from his position in the corner. His own band not going on until last, the most popular of the three booked for P.L.A.T.I.C.A.L..J.O.K.E. The junior vocalist, who hadn’t superstitiously sneezed once, was bouncing while hunched over the microphone stand. He aimed to finish out the final song on a high note and gripped the microphone so tightly his hands hurt. 

“hide, I’m serious.” The blond sighed, “Putting him aside for a second, I also think the band, as a whole, is one to watch.”

“Okay, and how many times have I heard that in all of my wondrous years on this beautiful planet?” he countered with a lazy drawl. 

“Tch. You —“, his rebuttal immediately cut off by the loud cheers of the audience and the band exiting the stage with sweaty faces and eyes flush with pride. The two men nodded their heads at each of the four members’ deep bows in greeting, as they filed backstage. 

The blond turned to watch their retreating backs for a moment before responding, his voice hushed but with conviction, “Trust me.”

Small lips quirked before replying, “Whatever you say, Kiyosh’."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fact check:  
> \- Indeed, hide hated Hakuei's voice. Kiyoshi's admitted this more than once in interviews (lol poor Hakuei).  
> \- Kiyoshi's a blond in 1994!


	2. 2017 (1): A Spoonful of Sugar/Pudding/Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legacy, part two.

“He’s… _adorable_.”

“Okay, and — “

“I just could eat him with a spoon!” A nearly earsplitting squeal was quickly followed up by a loud cackle.

Hakuei sighed softly, while trying to hide his amusement from the older man, “You’re such a dick.”

Kiyoshi threw himself back into his chair, slouching a bit as he continued laughing, stopping only to take a swing of his beer. Hakuei rolled his eyes before pressing “Play” again on his phone. A video of a studio recording of his newest protégée singing a cappella, the young man’s voice wavering slightly due to nerves but his vibrato holding strong as the song ended.

Kiyoshi pointed to the phone with bottle, “Where did you find him?”

“Mm, I was watching this drama while visiting my mother — shut up — and he was singing this number…” Hakuei’s voice trailed off a bit, eyes looking far past the phone in his hand. “I just felt like there was something more to him than anyone else on the screen.”

“Hmm.” 

Soft brown eyes turned to regard his friend and mentor. “What do you think?” he asked gently.

Kiyoshi tossed his shaggy jet black hair sightly as he looked toward the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts. “Mmm…if you believe in this kid, then that’s all that matters.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Kiyoshi's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes cut over to stare directly at the younger man.

“Yes, I did.”

Hakuei’s brows also furrowed a bit, confused at his response. “But, you didn’t comment on his voice, you didn’t comment on his performance…”

“I don’t need to do either of those things in order to trust that you know what you’re doing."

He blinked in shock at the bluntness of Kiyoshi’s response and then again at himself for being taken aback by the other man’s tone, which he’s always known to be sharp, but never unkind. 'Maybe I'm feeling a little sensitive...'

“If he’s worth taking a chance on, then he’s worth it, period.”

Hakuei firmly nodded once in understanding before pocketing his phone and signaling a waitress for a refill of his empty beer. 

“Although…” Kiyoshi’s face slowly broke out into a grin, “If he doesn’t work out, you can just turn him into an idol. He can be your first in your own brand of Hakuei’s Juniors or some shit. He’s cute enough.” He then sat up completely in his chair, blatantly ignoring his friend’s long-suffering groan, and covered his cheeks with his hands before letting out a shrill, girlish squeal, “Especially with those _eyes_!"

“Dick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fact check:  
> \- Very, very loosely based off of Hakuei's new project, The Brow Beat


	3. 1995: There Can Be Only One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the recording of Deathtopia by the AUTO-MOD LUNATIC ENSEMBLE

Kiyoshi had barely entered the door and thrown out exhausted greetings before hearing,

“Kiyoharu’s on the warpath.”

“Ehh???”

Sugizo grinned as he drew the red haired man into a hug and whispered, “He’s not too happy about your involvement with Hakuei.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Kiyoshi stepped back from the hug looking more than a little grumpy at the news.  Though he had come to regard the, sometimes volatile, vocalist a friend, he wasn’t particularly interested in arguing over Hakuei…again.

Sugizo chuckled at Kiyoshi’s expression and lightly tapped his cheek. “You know how he can be. Personally, I do think they sound a bit alike —” 

Kiyoshi growled under his breath and Sugizo softly shushed him, “Let me finish — I do think they sound a bit alike, but they have completely different attitudes, different bands, and different styles. Also, Kiyoharu doesn’t own throaty singing with a heavy vibrato, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Eby, who had been silently eavesdropping on the conversation, looked up as a swish of peroxide blond hair and heavy footsteps made their way into the room. He looked away while muttering, “Speak of the devil…”

Kiyoharu came to stand directly behind Kiyoshi and teasingly tug on an errant lock of hair. "Ne, Kiyoshi, I knew you loved my voice, but I didn’t think you needed two of me in your life!” 

Sugizo caught Hitoki rolling his eyes in his peripheral vision, and tried to hold back a snicker behind a cough.

Kiyoshi groaned, dramatically, before turning around to regard the younger man. He replied, sounding as bored as humanly possible, “Hakuei’s voice is his own and your voice is your own and, believe it or not, this town is big enough for the both of you."

Kiyoharu sneered slightly, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. He bites my voice and you’re telling me to get over it?”

Kiyoshi rolled his eyes up the ceiling, moved his head side to side in pretend thought, then brought his head back down to look Kiyoharu straight in the eye. He then placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders before simply stating, “Yes.”

Kiyoharu flinched and knocked his hands off his shoulders. “Fuck you, Kiyosh’.” he bit out before turning on his heel to go into the vocal booth.

Kiyoshi sighed and called out, “Love you, too!” 

He received the one-fingered salute in response. 

Shaking his head, Kiyoshi picked up his guitar, slung it over his shoulder, and looked back at Sugizo, who was trying, valiantly, to not crack a smile.

“Alright, let’s get started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fact check:  
> \- The feud is urban legend at this point  
> \- Eby (Zi:Kill)  
> \- Hitoki (Kuroyume)


	4. 2016: Legacy, Achieved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Hakuei's 20th anniversary solo live at Akasaka Blitz

“Good afternoon, Hakkun!”

Hakuei was sitting in front of the mirror in his dressing room, fussing over one of the long, blond curls framing his temples, when he visibly jumped at the singsong greeting and blur of a smaller man crossing behind him.

“Kiyoshi-san, you scared the shit out me!" he hissed, turning around in his chair to look at the other man fully. 

Kiyoshi just waved a hand dismissively in his general direction as sat his bag down on a chair in the corner. Hakuei rolled his eyes and turned back around to pick at his hair a bit more. There was just thirty minutes to last live of his 20th anniversary tour and it was being filmed, leaving him slightly on edge.

Kiyoshi came up behind him and threw one arm over his chest and shoulders, hugging the younger man to his chest. He rested his chin on the top of Hakuei's hair and held his gaze in the mirror. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” Kiyoshi said softly with eyes full of warmth. 

Hakuei, who immediately started to curl against him, quickly sat up, knocking Kiyoshi’s chin (“Ow!”), and stared up at him with wide eyes. “Why are you thanking me?” he asked in shock, “You’re supposed to be here!” 

Kiyoshi laughed loudly in response. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Senpai would have been here regardless, but it’s still nice to be asked to show up!”

Hakuei huffed at Kiyoshi referring to himself as, “Senpai”, but settled back into his chair, pulling the other man’s arm back across his upper chest from where it had been unceremoniously knocked off.

Kiyoshi wound down his laughter as leaned his chin back on top of the younger man’s head. “I still remember watching your first solo live so many years ago…” he began and hummed softly as he regained the other man’s attention in the mirror. “You were all bounce, all limbs, and no pacing.”

Hakuei burst into giggles with a wide smile that nearly split his face in two. “Ahhh, I was so out of breath!" he added, continuing to laugh at himself while covering his eyes in embarrassment. 

“I think you managed to sing every sixth word...”

“Third!”

“And you were pitchy as fuck...”

“You have no room to talk about my voice, ever.”

“...And don’t forget about that animal print jumpsuit.” 

“Hey!” Hakuei uncovered his eyes as they flew open and he stared back at Kiyoshi with wide-eyed faux indignation. “That jumpsuit was before its time! No one cared about animal print until I wore it!”

Kiyoshi snorted, “With good reason.”

“Shut up!”

A young woman with a staff badge poked her head around the dressing room door and called out, “Fifteen minutes, Hakuei-san!” before disappearing as quickly as she came. 

Both men nodded to the woman and said their thank you’s. Hakuei started to school his face into a neutral expression in preparation for the show, as his band were due to come by in ten minutes. Kiyoshi, on the other hand, shot straight-up and looked around quickly, as if he lost something, before exclaiming, “Ah, one more thing!"

Hakuei raised his eyebrows and blinked softly in silent questioning. 

Kiyoshi bent over to press his lips against the top of Hakuei's head and murmured, only loud enough for the two of them to hear,

“I’m proud of you."


	5. 2002: Let's Start Fresh, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slightly painful start to something new. Finally.

A low, pained groan from a huddled heap on the bed filled the dark bedroom. It was the middle of the afternoon and the curtains were blessedly closed, as the unfortunate soul had woken up still drunk from last night’s activities.

Activities that included an after party to machine’s last live of the tour, and an after party to the after party that lasted well into the morning. A fitting send-off to Hakuei’s renewed focus on Penicillin and machine’s hiatus. 

Kiyoshi’s tired body rolled over and onto a crumpled piece of paper. He opened his bloodshot eyes to stare confusedly at the paper, trying to remember why it was there and why it was important enough to be beside him. Somewhere in his impaired state, a dim lightbulb appeared as he remembered --

_“Why has it taken so long for us to finally meet up again? This makes no sense!” Kiyoshi loudly exclaimed and gesticulated wildly, completely amped up after chatting and drinking all night._

_The other man laughed, his normally subdued nature had completely dissolved in the presence of sweet potato liquor. “I have no idea, I mean, we always found enough time to email and fax each other stupid shit, so we weren’t *that* busy."_

_“I swear I asked hide for your number after I finally got a phone.”_

_“And I swear I asked him for yours and he told me he’d write it down when he was sober!” The man slapped his hand on the table for emphasis, “Several times!"_

_"Bah!” Kiyoshi took a big swing of his beer, "You know how he was! You ask one thing and then the next day it was always, “ He stopped to pout and appear seemingly apologetic, “Ah, did I say I would do that? I don’t remember...”_

_The other man laughed even harder and brought up his cup to clink against Kiyoshi’s glass. “So true!”_

"Oh, that’s right. His phone number.” he muttered to himself. 

Kiyoshi grabbed his phone and smoothed out the piece of paper, ready to finally enter the number for posterity before he laid eyes on…dicks.

A series crudely drawn dicks and one big dick with a smiley face that took up the middle of the paper.

“...What.”

_Kiyoshi’s drinking buddy had long since fallen into a drunken stupor with a literal thud, and he himself was struggling to stand up. Atsushi looked up from the sheet of paper he had been doodling on and smiled at Kiyoshi’s apparent impairment._

_“Are you okay to get home, Kiyoshi?”_

_“I’m fine! I’m fine, I’m fine.” he slurred with drunken confidence before stopping in his tracks and fixing Atsushi with a determined look. “Actually, can you give me his,“ he pointed to the sleeping man, “number?”_

_“Of course.” Atsushi’s smile stretched even further as he quickly jotted something down and folded the sheet of paper once, then twice._

_Kiyoshi stumbled over to him and took the paper from his hand with a merry, “Thank you!” and called out his goodbyes to the rest of the group as Hakuei helped him into his taxi._

“Fucking Acchan.”

Kiyoshi tossed the paper onto his nightstand and flipped open his phone, rubbing his tired eyes with one hand and dialing a saved number with the other. After a two rings, a familiar voice picked up.

“Kiyosh'! How are you feeling on this lovely afternoon?”

“Shitty. Ani, can you give me Imai’s number? Acchan’s an asshole."


	6. 2005: Other Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There can be only one. For real, this time.

“Wake up.”

Kiyoshi unconsciously shifted under his blankets and furrowed his brow at the sound of a voice that was definitely not feminine and definitely not soft in its demand. But, he couldn’t place the voice, nor could he really move his hips due a weight on top of them.

Couldn’t move his hips.

Unknown voice.

Kiyoshi immediately started squirming. _'Who the fuck —'_

“I made you breakfast.” The voice drawled from above.

He stopped almost instantly and dropped his body back onto the bed with a deep huff. 

“Hakuei, get the fuck off of me.”

Hakuei chuckled as he climbed off the smaller man and padded his way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, ignoring Kiyoshi’s cry of, “Wait, how did you get into my apartment?!”

— 

Five minutes later, Kiyoshi was sitting in rumpled pajamas and bed-mused hair while he sleepily munched on a strip of bacon. Hakuei sat across the table from him as calm as could be with a steaming mug of coffee and his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he read the morning paper. Kiyoshi reached over with his free hand and pinched the younger man’s arm before he demanded, “Hey. You. How did you get into my apartment?”

The sound of the paper crinkled as the page was turned. 

“Your wife let me in.” Hakuei stated as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

Kiyoshi blinked once, then twice. “…And where did she go?” he asked slowly. 

Warm brown eyes shot up to peer over the newspaper and he regarded the other man with a confused gaze. “I’m not sure that I can answer that question?”

Kiyoshi finished off his strip and then waved his hands in the air, as if to erase his previous questions from existence. “Okay, okay”, he began, “What is happening; what’s wrong? I saw you maybe three days ago, so I know you don’t miss me."

Hakuei let out a playful whine, “But it’s been three. whole. days, Kiyosh—“

“Hush.” Hakuei snickered and settled down to let the other man finish. “Now, I’m never going to turn down anything you cook me, thanks for breakfast by the way, but something is clearly bothering you.”

Hakuei hummed softly as he neatly refolded the newspaper, set it off to the side, and rested his chin in his palm. “So…” he said softly, yet teasingly, "I heard that you deemed someone to be your ‘Other Half' at Lucy’s live last night...”

Kiyoshi cocked his head to the side at the strange accusation before remembering that, indeed, he had referred to Kiyoharu as his other half when the younger man came on stage to join one of Lucy’s songs. 

He launched forward with his arms spread in front of him and proclaimed, “I was just kidding!” 

Hakuei leaned back and turned his body to the side, feigning hurt and fighting to keep a smirk at bay. “No! Kiyoharu is your other half? Really?” He pouted and crossed his arms. “I’m so hurt.”

If Kiyoshi could have dramatically sunk into his omelet with zero judgment, he would have, but no, he couldn’t have that moment. Instead he breathed a deep sigh and put his right hand over his heart. “Hakkun, you know you’re my favorite.” he stated, his voice syrupy sweet while the younger man rolled his eyes.

“No, Kiyoharu is your favorite. And your other half. You’re a liar.” Hakuei replied, his voice breaking slightly due to the bubbles of laughter at the back of his throat.

Kiyoshi groaned as he threw himself back into his chair, “You know that’s not true.”

Hakuei stole a strip of bacon off of the other’s man plate and chewed on it as he struggled not to laugh. “It is true, but it’s fine. I won’t hold this over your head or anything.”

Kiyoshi scoffed, “Now who’s the liar?”

Hakuei threw the uneaten portion at him with a playful smile. “No one, now finish your food. I slaved over a hot stove for you.”

Kiyoshi let the piece hit him in the chest before popping it into his mouth with a grin and getting up to retrieve some soy sauce from the fridge.

“And maybe get some sugar and milk for my coffee, please?” Hakuei called out when Kiyoshi disappeared into the kitchen.

Kiyoshi poked his head around the wall and simply replied, “Yes, dear.”


	7. 2003 (1): Like a Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't be afraid to start over.

Hakuei walked up to a nondescript bar on one of Shibuya’s many side streets with his usual face mask and beanie covering his, recently dyed, black hair. This place was a much different change of pace than his usual bars with hidden away rooms for he and his friends and bandmates to enjoy a night out without having to dodge zealous fans. He arrived twenty, maybe thirty, minutes later than the original meeting time but by now his habitual lateness was just a quirk of his personality, rather than a nuisance. Or so he’d tell himself.

Once he stepped through the door, he bowed and greeted the owners, a couple in their late 50s, and then surveyed the room for a familiar crop of bright orange hair. He frowned in confusion, surprised to not see it as the owner of said hair was the complete opposite with timing — he was never late. Hakuei removed his face mask and beanie and he slowly walked around the small room, until a familiar voice called out to him,

“Down here.”

Hakuei looked directly below him and damn near jumped out of his skin. 

“Kiyosh’?!”

Kiyoshi hissed and waved his hand at him, “Shh! Must you alert the entire street?”

Hakuei turned toward his table, dragged out a chair, and threw himself into it. His expression still showing complete shock, while his eyes roved over the other man’s face and hair.

Especially the hair.

“…I think,” he began, “I think this is the first time I have ever seen you with normal hair.”

Kiyoshi smiled ruefully and ran a hand through the wavy, jet black strands. “Yeah, it’s a major change. I’m still adjusting.”

Hakuei reached out to wrap a index finger around a lock of hair, his expression no longer depicting pure shock but had faded to awe, just as one of the owners came over to ask for his drink order. Kiyoshi got to her first and asked to keep the beers coming. 

“I needed a change.” he said, once the owner walked away. “Mentally, emotionally..” he then snorted, “…Physically.”

Hakuei nodded and pulled his hand back to place under his chin. He opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut just as the owner returned with a pitcher. He thanked her with a gentle smile and then turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

“This is going to sound silly, but seeing you without the orange makes me feel like a part of you just died —, “ Hakuei choked then winced at the connotation, “Oh, shit. Kiyosh’, I’m —“

“No, you’re right.” Kiyoshi replied with a soft smile, “That’s how I envisioned it, too.” He reached for the pitcher to pour a glass for Hakuei and then himself, all the while murmuring, “I needed this. I couldn’t be that person anymore.”

Hakuei frowned and leaned forward, anxiety coiling within him as he nervously asked, “What person are you talking about?”

Kiyoshi took a big gulp and let out a satisfied groan before setting his glass down. “That orange-haired guy. That ‘rock star’. That, “ he sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly, “That past.” He put his hands down in his lap and stared at the table, “I never gave myself a chance to think, or to pivot, or to even grieve. I just kept going. There were all these eyes on me and I couldn’t escape them, so I thought I could in the music, but even that wasn’t enough anymore.”

He raised his eyes up to look into Hakuei’s, his expression sad but under that, a layer of guilt. “I needed to keep going, but I couldn’t do it alone, so I dragged you with me. I walked into your apartment, picked up your lyric book and said, _‘Let’s do this.’_ ” he looked away then and muttered to himself, “So fucking selfish.”

Hakuei shook his head, “But Kiyoshi, I said —“ 

“You know Daisuke left the band that same morning? He sat me down at our office to told me that he was done.” Kiyoshi interjected and then scoffed, leaning back in his chair and turning his head away as the memories from that day flashed before his eyes. “Two bands in one year, gone.”

Hakuei’s eyes widened and he scooted back in his chair before bowing his head slightly in deference. “I didn’t know.”, he replied, though he knew the question was asked rhetorically. He felt the need to speak. “I didn’t know that part, but I knew he left. You told me later…I think you were drunk.”

“I was going to leave the industry after — after machine’s last album.” Kiyoshi said, while keeping his head turned away. “I was so tired and so fucking done and that was going to be it.”

“You were going to do **what**?” Hakuei growled. That uncharacteristic tone had Kiyoshi whipping his head back around in surprise, while Hakuei pressed on, “You were going to leave? Just like that? Without telling **anyone** you were just going to,” he angrily waved his hands in the air, “Poof, disappear! And you thought that was going to be okay?”

“Hakuei. You don’t — “

“No. Did you stop to think about how much hurt you’d cause?” he hissed as his voice dropped lower to keep from yelling, “Other people depend on you; **I** depend on you. And I would have moved heaven and earth with you if you had told me what you were going through.” Hakuei balled his hands into fists under the table and he unconsciously leaned further and further over the table while his eyes continued to bore into Kiyoshi’s. “I tell. you. everything. and right now is when you’re telling me that you were this close to walking away from everything we’ve worked hard for? Almost a year after the fact?”

 _‘We shouldn’t be having this conversation in public.’_ Was a fleeting thought Kiyoshi had, and quickly pushed away. It would have been rude of him to stop the other man from releasing his feelings. So, he nodded in resignation and breathed out, “I’m sorry, Hakuei.”

“You should be, you selfish prick.” And with that, Hakuei sat back up, although the fire in his eyes didn’t lessen. He took a long drink from the beer that was previously untouched until that point.

Kiyoshi leaned his chin on his palm as he took in what Hakuei said to him. There was anger in those words, of course, but also deep-seated hurt. He had to admit to himself that he didn’t think Hakuei would be that upset at all. Or, maybe a little bit — maybe he’d pout — but his resiliency was a trait Kiyoshi always secretly admired. He thought that when he left, Hakuei would be able to continue on without it affecting him too deeply. That he’d be okay.

He drummed his fingers on the table, trying to figure a way to break the tension. He had another fleeting thought, if slightly inappropriate given the severity of the previous conversation, but, 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever yelled at me.”

Hakuei’s head was tipped back as he drained his beer. When he put the glass back down, his eyes were wide and thrown to the side and his cheeks were tinged pink. Kiyoshi immediately burst into laughter.

“Ten years!” he said through boisterous laughter, "Ten, is it ten?”

Hakuei coughed, “Eleven.”

“Eleven years, and not once have you ever yelled or cursed at me, directly. Until today. I think I’m proud of you.”

The younger man screwed his face up a bit, not sure where to laugh or grimace or both, “That’s a bit twisted.”

“I know, I know, but I didn’t realize you cared that much.”

Hakuei frowned again and cracked his knuckles, “And now I want to punch you. It’s going to be a series of firsts for you, tonight.”

Kiyoshi rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “You don’t want that fight.” He held a hand up to stop Hakuei’s retort, “Look, depression is a bitch, okay? And I only came to terms with this a month or two ago…which may mean that I’m doing better?” He trailed off, then shrugged.

“Depression?” Hakuei’s eyebrows knitted together, “How did you know?”

“Well…my thoughts always run a bit dark, unfortunately.” Kiyoshi’s gaze softened as he held Hakuei’s attention, "I’ve always been this way. But, I visited INA in LA a few weeks ago, and he and I were sitting in his backyard, drinking some beers, talking about the past.” He chuckled, “Old man shit. When I told him about the…emptiness that I had been feeling. Drowning in, really. It didn’t hit me how bad it was getting until the last tour before our hiatus.”

“You were…very cranky. And distant.” Hakuei whispered. 

“Hm, I wasn’t aware that you noticed.” Kiyoshi sighed before continuing, “I told a bit of that to INA and he said that Chirolyn was going through the same thing. Alcohol wasn’t doing it for him, weed only helped temporarily, so why not try therapy like the Americans do?” He nodded his head side to side, “I was weirded out at first, but thought, why not? Anything is better than nothing.” 

His eyes dropped to the table and a hand played with the hem of his cardigan. “So,” he huffed, “I started therapy.”

Hakuei scooted closer to the table so that he could lean forward to speak softly, but directly. “Has it helped? Did you learn anything?”

Kiyoshi looked up at him briefly before dropping his eyes back down, “I learned that I try to bury myself in work to avoid my feelings. And that I pull back, emotionally, when I am overwhelmed. And that my relationships suffer because I think I’m doing the right thing by keeping you away from my problems.” He nodded his head side to side again, this time in annoyance. “Isolation as a way of keeping myself sane. Intellectually, I know that doesn’t work, but when you’re going through some shit that you can’t vocalize, isolation makes sense.”

“And so you were willing to walk away from everything because you convinced yourself that this is what you needed to do to ‘stay sane’?”

He nodded, “Pretty much.”

Hakuei sighed, “I don’t agree with that logic, but I can see why you’d think that. Everything…about tonight makes a lot more sense, now.” His eyes flickered up to Kiyoshi’s jet black mop, “But what about the hair?”

“Brand new start.”

Hakuei grinned at that and Kiyoshi flashed one in return. The younger man settled back into his chair and moved to pour the remaining beer for Kiyoshi and himself. Kiyoshi scrunched his nose a bit and whined a bit, “It’s probably flat by now.”

“Then order another one and quit complaining.”

Kiyoshi guffawed at the flip response but did exactly that. After signaling the owners, he raised his glass to Hakuei’s. “Kanpai!”

“Kanpai.”

They drained half their glasses in one go and settled in for much lighter chatter about the beginning of their week, O-Jiro’s upcoming DJ set, and lives their friends were having soon.

On that subject, Hakuei eyebrows popped up as he was reminded of a previous night, “Wait, did you ever manage to get in touch with Imai-san?” he asked. Hakuei grinned as he recalled the ranting Kiyoshi gave the following evening over dinner, “I remember Sakurai-san sort of sabotaging you a bit.”

Kiyoshi laughed and replied, “Yeah, Ani gave me his number. I should have asked him first, but anyway, I’m actually going to see their show tomorrow night. You should come!”

Hakuei smiled and shook his head, “I wish, but I’m going to see another friend’s show. I would like to meet him properly, though.”

“You will, you will.” Kiyoshi paused for a second and then, “You remember what I said about relationships suffering and all that?”

“Of course.”

“So, Imai and I have known each other for years…”

“Really?” Hakuei cocked his head to the side, “How long?”

“Um, since…94? 95?”

“ _Kiyosh’_.”

“I’m sorry, please tell Kaoru and Die I said hello, but he and I were never really that close. Not acquaintances but also not friends, in the formal sense? Anyway, we had drinks a few nights ago and that’s why I’m going to his live tomorrow.”

Hakuei mock glared at him but relented, “Maybe this is what you need.”

Kiyoshi nodded, “I think so. He…gets it, I think.”

With that Hakuei raised his unfinished glass and his lips twitched with amusement. Kiyoshi looked at him and raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t that bad luck?”

“Just raise your glass.”

Kiyoshi raised his hands in mock defeat and then picked up his nearly empty glass. “So, to what are we proposing?”

Hakuei smirked, “To new beginnings.”

“You cheesy bastard. Cheers."


	8. 2018: "Your" Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's a muse to a man?

Hakuei quickly finished rinsing off the rest of the dishes he used to prep for dinner. Once he loaded up the dishwasher, he stood back up, popped his lower back with a soft groan, and then sighed at the sight in front of him. He had lured his guest over with the promise of dinner after an exhausting tour — though asking wasn’t all that difficult and he got a yes almost immediately — and while said guest promised to rinse up, he was instead laid out on Hakuei’s soft leather couch with an arm over his eyes, his chest gently rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. 

Hakuei quietly walked back into the living room, picked up his unfinished glass of wine, and sat next to the head of the sleeping man. He took in slight differences from the last time he saw him, like how long his hair has gotten and how the tendons in his left forearm, for which he was receiving therapy, twitched intermittently in his sleep. 

The arm over the other man’s eyes accidentally bumped into Hakuei’s knee and jerked its owner out of his nap. A confused frown quickly appeared and quickly deepened in response to Hakuei’s soft chuckling.

“Good morning, Kiyoshi-san…”

He snorted in reply. 

“Mm.” Hakuei reached over and deposited his glass on the coffee table with a soft clink. He then ran a hand through the older man’s hair, as he continued to look down at him. “Are you going to wake up, or would you like to sleep in the guest room?”

Kiyoshi shook his head back and forth, but made no effort to sit up or even open his eyes. “I’m fine; I’m awake.” he rasped, his voice froggy from his short nap. 

Hakuei shrugged and reached over to pick up his phone from the end table, which was open to show his music player. “I finally got a chance to listen to Uroboros.” he said with a shy smile, though it was lost on the man in front of him.

Kiyoshi quirked an eyebrow, “You did?”

“Yes! The three of you sound amazing as always.” his smile was broader now and brimming with warmth.

Kiyoshi peeked up at him with one eye open and closed it just as soon as he made eye contact. “Thank you,” he said softly, “I have some feelings about my voice, but I suppose this is the best I’m going to get.”

The younger man laughed and cocked his head to the side, “You can always ask me to sing for you. You know I don’t mind.”

He received a grin and shake of shaggy hair in response. 

“But honestly, your voice has come such a long way,” Hakuei said as he gently laid a hand across the throat of the older man before sliding to the collarbone, “You don’t need mine anymore.”

“Mm…what are you talking about.” Kiyoshi replied, his eyes finally opening to stare up into deep brown eyes, rather than the light brown contacts he was expecting.

The younger man shifted onto right side of his hip, propping himself with an elbow on the top of the couch, and crossed one leg over the other. He leaned his chin on the hand not currently tapping a rhythm against a clothed, bony chest. “You used to call me in the middle of the night or practically knock down my door to get my voice attached to a song in your head.” He snorted softly, “Now, I’m chasing after you.”

Kiyoshi chuckled and patted the hand on his chest to stop its movement. “ Chasing after me, huh? That’s a new one.” he replied with a small smile.

“Yep. You don’t need me anymore.”

Kiyoshi’s eyes, by then had nearly closed again in contentment, shot open and stared up at him in shock. Hakuei managed to barely flinch.

“That’s not true. That’s not even remotely true. That’s not —“ Kiyoshi growled as he pushed himself up with some difficulty given the softness of the cushions, “ — Hakuei, how can you even say that?”

“It is. Why do you think I wanted you involved in my work with Litchi?” He replied, his face nearly expressionless while he watched Kiyoshi struggle. “Use the back of the couch.” he offered.

“Why is your couch so fucking soft? I’m sinking!”

“You’re pushing against the break in the cushions. Stop fighting and sit up properly."

Kiyoshi huffed and whipped his head over to glare at his host after getting into an upright, if not slightly haphazard, sitting position. 

“Hakuei, what the fuck.” he bit out.

“Why do you see this as a negative?” Hakuei asked as he nonchalantly picked his phone back up to go through a few open windows.

“What do you mean ‘why do I see this as a negative’?” Kiyoshi fired back. He tempered down the itch to snatch the younger man’s phone out of his hand. “Just how the hell am I supposed to take it?”

Hakuei’s eyes flickered up and over the top of the screen. “Humor me for a second,” he said as lips curved into a smirk, “Do you know what a muse is, Kiyoshi?” he asked coyly. 

Kiyoshi let out an annoyed whine as he threw himself back against the couch cushions. “Oh, _what_?”

Hakuei started laughing and scooted closer to lean his chest against Kiyoshi’s shoulder. “Look at this definition, “ He shoved the screen in his face, “A muse is — stop pushing me — a muse is defined as, ow!” he pouted and rubbed at his upper arm where his petulant friend pinched him.

“I know what a muse is and you’re being ridiculous!” Kiyoshi shouted.

“No, I’m not. Think about it,” Hakuei moved back to cautiously lay his head against the other man’s shoulder, “I’ve been singing your songs for twenty-two years.” He brought a hand up, made a “V”, and wiggled his index and middle fingers. “Twenty-two. And of that twenty-two, I sang them nearly exclusively for almost ten years until you decided to cheat on me with Imai-san, oww!” Hakuei popped up and giggled in shock at a second, vicious, pinch to his ribs.

Kiyoshi pulled his hand back and curled his fingers like a claw, “Get to the point!” he barked.

“Okay, okay!” Hakuei put his hands up in defeat and then placed them in his lap. "What I’m trying to say is that you never thought about how our partnership developed? I sang your songs until you felt confident enough to sing them yourself.” A soft smile graced his face as Kiyoshi lowered his hand, “So, while it makes me a little sad that you don’t really _need_ my voice anymore, I’m still happy that you, unconsciously,” he raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look, “unconsciously, saw me as your muse. A voice for your voice.” 

Kiyoshi blinked up at him and then looked away. His eyes scanned the floor almost frantically as he digested the information. 

“That...sounds like a proxy.”

Hakuei leaned forward, “What was that?” he asked softly.

“By that definition…you were kind of a proxy.” Kiyoshi added, his eyes suddenly seemed pained. 

“Hmm, if I were a proxy, I wouldn’t have had an actual say in the relationship.” Hakuei nudged him gently, “And we both know that’s not true.”

Kiyoshi continued to stare at the ground while the line between his eyebrows deepened.

“And if I were just a proxy, we wouldn’t have spent countless late nights trading ideas via email, on the phone, or in person. Or have seen too many five a.m. sunrises to mention as I sang broken phrases to keep you going.” 

Kiyoshi opened his mouth to reply, but Hakuei continued on, “And, if I were just a proxy, you would have gotten someone else to sing in my place when I was busy. You could have asked Chisato, or hired some young starlet, or maybe you would have just sang it yourself out of frustration.” 

Hakuei chuckled softly and then looked up at the ceiling in wonder, “Mm, can you imagine?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sang nasally, “ _Yagate boku wa tori ni nari hissatsu ma--_ ”

That snapped Kiyoshi out of his mood spiral enough to deliver a good smack to Hakuei’s thigh.

“Ow, gods! You’re so sensitive!” Hakuei cried just before he doubled over with laughter.

Kiyoshi rolled his eyes and reached over to rescue Hakuei’s phone from where it slipped between the cushions. He quickly tapped in the passcode and scrolled down the webpage to quietly read the definition aloud to himself. 

_Muse: a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist._

Kiyoshi looked up see Hakuei silently peering at him after winding down. He sighed.

“This doesn’t leave the room.”

Hakuei’s eyes flew open and he grinned, “So, you agree?”

He received a grunt in a response.

“Hah, good enough.” Hakuei leaned forward plant a kiss on Kiyoshi’s temple before pushing himself up. “I’m going to the kitchen, you need anything?"

“Yeah,” Kiyoshi leaned against the back cushions and dramatically threw an arm over his eyes, “A bottle of wine to wash away the fact that I admitted that to you.”

“Beer, it is.”


End file.
